The Penn's Grove record., 1887-02-19
QUEEN OF THE AIR

QUEEN OF THE AIR.
Music as a Nervine tor a Performe
on the Trapeze.
Snow, I'll tell YOU" said the circus
man, ''when music is a nerve tonic and
a necessity, that is to the rope and wire
men who learn the business by music
beats. One two, three; tum, tum
tum, ii tiddle,' and you drop, see?
"Circus people wouldn't think OF
going into the ring without fddles and
trombones. Why, just think of doing
all the climbing and swinging In mid
air to dead silence. 1t ain't natural,
it amt. The funniest part OF it is that
we have to have the same music year
in and year out. Folks say, Lord,
why don't they get new tunesP I'm
dead tired of that old trapeze waltz
But if they knew the reason they
wouldn't. Nothing breaks a man up
like new music. It's worse than get
ting a strange partner on the bar. I've
had enough OF it, anyway. Feel this
lump under my shirt. Well, that's a
broken collar-bone, along Of not having
my regular show tune. j shan't forget
it in a hurry. 1t laid me up in Aubu-
querque, N. M, better'n two months
last year. and cost me all the rocks
had put by for rainy weather. A chap
al did the frontier act with me through
Texas once, mighty nigh got away with
me out of spite. and that settled 1t far
aa AI1 GI~xfIar naf1 on1 mo VvaG non
cerned. But last year the manager got
it into his head that | ought to have a
woman on the sofa with me, 1t would
draw better, and all that. l reared
about awhile, and gave in, when he
fetched in a pale, knocked-kneed little
woman, with M glass eye. She was
as pretty a piece OF womankind in fig
ure as you ever saw, but ugly as home
made sin. A cowboy had murdered
her husband in Denver, and her name
was Roxana Coleman, bat she was
billed as Mile Camargo, the Queen OF
the Air.
'Queen OF nothingl She was the
ciumsiest mortal l ver struck, but L
worked with her like a horse, getting
her in harness.
"She was as shaky at the last rehear.
sal as a cat with st. Vitus' dance.
That settled me, and l began to pass
in brandy. The worst you ever tack
led. More brandy is generally my ru'o
when l set in, and the tumblers and
Bill Reddy, the ringmaster took me to
one side about Coleman's little one.
eyed widow. Bnt l just had to have
more-that was all there wa to 1t.
Here is where the music comes in live
~. A fellow goes by the tune and
knows by a certain note how to change
hands, go backward, etc, When the
cymbals clash you drop dead and scare
all the women plumb into compton
its. He's all o. X. with the old tune,
you see, but new ones make him Wild
and panicky. I'd have been all right
myself, L reckon, but l had to watch
Roxana. and she was as crazy as a bed
bug at the sight of that house, packed
with cowboys, Indians and greasers
yelling like devils. AS for me, the
lights all flared together, there was
birthstone over the whole show. Reddy'S
voice sounped like a fog-horn. l went
up the O D to the bar like creased
lightning, kicking off my sawdust
m%occasins as Roxie came up hand over
fist.
THAT internal band began to play
the music for Mad. Dalton's menage
act with four white horses. 1t knocked
me off my box entirely. Roxana saw
how | fumbled at and missed every
trick, and she screamed in my ear
Look out, JimI don't drop me, for the
Lord sakeI You'll murder me right
here if you do
II came tarnal nigh not catching het
feet as she dropped between mine. The
music wanged away, and l could see
the four white horses with pink eyes
and wavy tails cavorting round the
ring. Roxana seemed a stuffed doll IN
red trunks and splngled fringe. quit
counting and listened to the horse tune,
grabbing the Widow Coleman anyway
that came handy. | fancied people
were shouting to me from below and
Bill stood aghast. Roxana's heart beat
time with the drum. | could hear 1t
all at once and that tickled me. l knew
she was praying when she slid down my
body, and fell, locking her feet In
mine, the old flash trick. There's a
| place, you know, where in this double
act both performers let go from opposite
sides OF the bar, when the cymbals
clash, and catch in the knee socket on
the bar, L was as happy as a negro In
a feather bed. l forgot to lock my
knees over aud down went the Queen
| of the Air with a loud shrek, me after
her. Well SIT, it's funny how fast a
man can think when he's falling. ]
remember that | smiled as | thougutot
how the widows glass eye would be
stove up; then l quit thinking at all,
for about six weeks it seemed to me,
You see, to get eyen with me, the nrst
vIolincello got on a spree n ran away
with my trapeze music. l mauled MIN
for it in FRISCO this summer.
"But the Queen of the Air, wiat
became of herr" asked the reporter,
breathlessly. .
WHO? Roxana2 All, you can't
Kill a half breed Mexican woman. She
got another eye, and had her ankles
both tinkered up. She gave up the
business, though. Lost confidence in
it, somehow. The last time | heard OF
Roxana she was doing the Hlndoo
Princess, feeding snakes and juggling
with boas IN a dime museum. She's
dead gone on the show business, but
not the trapeze. 1 carry my nttle old
tune in my gripsack now, you "a bet;
don't do any more funny business on
the trapeze to horse music, not for jim.
| haven't got MORN half my share OF
collar-bones left"
Proverbs of The Taimud.